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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22454500">The man out of time, again (Revamped)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peptidoglycan/pseuds/Peptidoglycan'>Peptidoglycan</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Black Widow (Movie 2020), Captain America (Movies), MCU, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Auntie Nat fluff, Back in 2012, F/M, Falling In Love, Fix-It, Romantic Fluff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 15:55:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,626</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22454500</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peptidoglycan/pseuds/Peptidoglycan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve goes back to 2012 to build a life with the love of his life. </p><p>It doesn't start out as easy as he thought. </p><p>Trails, tribulations and old enemies dare to threaten his new found happiness. </p><p>Hopefully he can adjust to being a man out of time, again.</p><p> </p><p>[A new rewritten version of the *The man out of time, again*.]</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Een</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I've been absent for three/four months, I think. But only in the writing department, I've been reading a lot more. (Gosh the Romanogers content out there is fantastically amazing. Good job everyone) </p><p>I kind of lost all the courage I once had to write, because my story was really getting out of hand and I didn't know what to do with it, also I don't know if you've noticed I'm not really good at it but I like doing it. So, after months of pining, I've decided to get off my ass and start writing again (because I don't like unfinished business).</p><p>But then I started reading what I've previously written and it didn't sit well with me. So I regrouped and restructured.<br/>Thus, resulting in this.</p><p>Hopefully it will go better this time around. (P.S. thank you for reading my TEDtalk on why this new fic exist.)</p><p> </p><p>Anyway,<br/>Disclaimer : These characters belong to the wonder that is Marvel.</p><p>Also if anyone has any tips or constructive criticism, I would really appreciate it. Feel free to voice them.</p><p>I really hope you enjoy this fic.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>The world has changed, and none of us can go back. All we can do is our best, and sometimes the best that we can do is to start over.</p>
</blockquote><hr/><p>
  <b>Steve’s POV </b>
</p><p>What if I can go back? She was my second chance. And I’m not gonna miss another one.</p><p>Bruce opens the case with his good hand and pushes it towards me.</p><p>“Remember...you have to return the stones at the exact moment you got them or you're gonna open up a bunch of nasty alternative realities.”</p><p>I nod in understanding and close the case. “Don't worry, Bruce. Clip all the branches.”</p><p>“You know, I tried. When I had the gauntlet, the stones, I really tried to bring her back. I miss them, man.”</p><p>Bruce looks down at the ground. I can distinctly hear the emotion in his voice. He is hurting. But again, who isn’t? All I can do is reassure him that he’s not alone. Ironic, considering what I’m about to do. “Me, too.”</p><p>I give Bruce one more courteous nod before walking off to the quantum port with Sam.</p><p>“You know, if you want…I can come with you.” It’s always been like him, to accept my challenges alongside me. I really am gonna miss him.</p><p>“You're a good man, Sam. This one's on me, though.”</p><p>I make my way over to Bucky. Bucky. My best friend, my comrade, my confidant. It kills me that I’m gonna have to leave him behind. But he needs this. He needs to live his life. He needs peace and quiet. He needs normalcy.</p><p>“Don't do anything stupid 'till I get back.”</p><p>“How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you.” Bucky smirks.</p><p>I know what he’s doing. Trying to put on a brave face. He knows what I’m about to do, I can feel it in his hug. He knows I can’t let this opportunity slide. Of course, he knows. He’s my brother.</p><p>“Gonna miss you, buddy.”</p><p>“It's gonna be okay, Buck.”</p><p>I walk over to the quantum port; despite its overwhelming emotion my heart is beating out of my chest. I know what I’m about to leave behind. But I need this. I need her. I tap my wrist to activate my quantum suit. I pick up Mjolnir, it really is a shame I have to return it to 2013 Thor.</p><p>“Ready, Cap?” I let out one last breath. Yeah, I am ready. I nod to Bruce.</p><p>“Alright. We'll meet you back here, okay?”</p><p>It might not be me-me, but I’ll be here. Don’t you worry, fellas. I look over at Bucky one last time.</p><p>“You bet.”</p><p>The helmet closes around my face. I hear the countdown and brace myself for the rush of quantum travel.</p><p>“Going quantum.”</p><p>3</p><p>2</p><p>1…</p><hr/><p>NEW YORK</p><p>NEW YORK CITY </p><p>MANHATTAN </p><p>200 PARK AVENUE</p><p>YEAR: 2012</p><p>I’ll probably never get over the rush of time travel. At least for now that will be the last time I do it. All six stones have been returned. The space stone – the 70’s, the soul and power stone – Vormir and Morag 2014, the reality stone – Asgard 2013 and the time and mind stone – here in 2012. Now in order for me to, let's say keep this timeline in tact, I have to let Loki escape. Sounds strange, but consider it a contingency plan. </p><p>I walk back to the lobby. There, I see Tony on the ground with Thor hovering over him. Next thing I know Thor is using Mjolnir as a defibrillator. While all the attention is on Tony, Loki’s eyes land on the tesseract. He looks around before picking it up and making his escape. That’s it right. Loki escaped. The timeline will stay on in existence. Time to find her.</p><p>Okay, first things first: I need to find some civilian clothes and discard of my uniform. Stark Industries has a gift shop at the tower, right. I walk into the gift shop and grab a baseball cap, sunglasses, sweats, a t-shirt and some tennis shoes. I swear I look like a walking ad campaign for Stark Industries, but it’ll do for now.</p><p>It’s just before six. Last, I remember we went for shawarma at around six-thirty, so everyone is probably cleaning up. I walk up the stairs – more inconspicuous than the elevator – and make my way to the residential floors of the tower. I walk across the mezzanine towards the guest rooms. My heart is beating way too fast. Then I spotted her. Crimson whooshes before my eyes. And for the first time, since I can’t remember when, I start to contemplate my decision. </p><p>I find myself in the bathroom. Am I really about to do this? Am I really going to turn her world upside down? I don’t know. Maybe I should just go back. My heart is still beating out of my chest and hands are getting clammy. </p><p>“Breathe, Steve.”</p><p>I say to myself. I dowse some cold water on face. I grab the towel on my left and dab my face. I feel another presence in the room. </p><p>“You okay there, Rogers?” In some sort of slow motion  - like in the movies - the towel drops from my hand and I turn my head to the right. That voice. The familiarity, it feels like home. Never has something sounded so beautiful. Sultry, raspy and melodic. Time to play it cool, Steve.</p><p>“Romanoff. How did you get in here?”</p><p>She gives me her signature smirk that is usually accompanied by a roll of her eyes or some kind of sarcastic comment at me.</p><p>“I used the door.”</p><p>“You know that’s not what I meant.”</p><p>“I’m a spy. I tend to go unnoticed. Anyway, are you okay? You came in here pretty frantically.”</p><p>We’ve only each other a few hours up until this point of our history. So, it warms my heart that she is concerned.</p><p>“Yeah. It’s just been a long day.”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>Suddenly there’s a knock at the door.</p><p>“Nat, you in there? We’re just waiting on you.”</p><p>I recognise the voice as Clint’s. I can’t help but think that he sounds happier or scratch happier for more at peace. That’s understandable. These were simpler times.</p><p>“I’ll be out in just a second.”</p><p>Now’s your chance, Steve. If you're gonna do something do it now. As she makes her way towards the door, I spin her around. She looks at me with a surprised expression. I pull her closer by the waist and slant my lips down onto hers. She resists at first but later falls into the rhythm of the kiss. I push her up against the bathroom door. My tongue dances at the seam of her lips and she parts them beckoning entrance. After a few glorious minutes, she braces her hands on my chest and lightly pushes me backwards. We’re both panting and breathing hard.</p><p>“I need to tell you something.”</p><p>“Well, we’re a lot closer than we were a few minutes ago. So, go ahead.”</p><p>“Not here.”</p><p>Another knock on the door interrupts us. This person clears their throat before speaking. Just by that action I know who it is. It’s not exactly the person I would’ve liked to interrupt us. But I’m kinda playing with fate here.</p><p>“Agent Romanoff. Are you still busy? We’d like to get going to the Shawarma place, but if you’re still busy I could just tell the others.” Natasha looks up at me, then at the door again and frowns. Something must've clicked. She'd always been intuitive.</p><p>She stays calm and collected. “I’ll be right out, Captain.”</p><p>We hear the footsteps grow faint. She looks thoroughly disrupted. She reaches for the doorknob but before she could turn it, my hand reaches for hers.</p><p>“Natasha, I'll explain if you'll let me. Go, enjoy your evening with them. I’ll get to you somehow.” </p><p>Without another glance in my direction she exits the bathroom. I let out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding. There’s no turning back now.</p><hr/><p>
  <b>Natasha’s POV</b>
</p><p>What the actual fuck? Two Captain Rogers’s. Did Loki do something to me? Because I swear, I saw another Rogers in the bathroom earlier. I look up at the Captain Rogers who is seated next to me. Nah, must be the exhaustion. I suddenly feel a hand on my shoulder. I look over and meet Clint’s eyes.</p><p>“Tash, you good? You’ve barely touched your Shawarma.”</p><p>“Yeah. I’m good. Just tired, it’s been a helluva day.”</p><p>I take another bite from the Shawarma sandwich. It is surprisingly tasty. Not as good as the one I had in Ankara, but still tasty. I look around at the faces of these five gentlemen. Yeah, it really has been a laborious day, filled with monsters and magic and nothing I’ve really trained for. I gotta get out of here. My bed and a hot shower are calling me home.</p><p>“Boys, as much as I enjoyed today’s ass-kicking session and the team bonding, I’m gonna call it a day.”</p><p>I head towards the door. Before I exit, I turn to look at them, one last time. A ragtag team fighting for the great or good. Cliché but so very true. </p><p>I hop on my motorbike and head to my apartment. Along the way I start thinking about my hallucinations – if you can even call it that. I start thinking about him. Steve. Captain America, the poster boy for American civility and justice. How can someone, who I just met a couple of hours ago, consume my thoughts to this extent? Get it together, Romanoff.</p><p>Steve. Even when I try to stop, I can’t. Dammit. Seems as though the past few years in America have made me soft. Why am I so infatuated with this man? It’s that damn hallucination. I did notice something, though. The one who I saw – and kissed, he looks different from our Captain Rogers. Weathered. Tired. Like he’s been through a great amount of shit over the past couple of years.</p><p>I slow down and bring my bike to a halt. I walk over to the alley and strip myself of the catsuit. As much as I love the catsuit on the field, it doesn’t really help when you’re trying to be a discrete neighbour. I find my emergency backpack hidden behind some bricks and proceed to dress in the jeans and flannel shirt, I found in there. I stuff my catsuit in the backpack and sling it over my shoulder.</p><p>I walk up the stairs and finally make it to my door. I see the yellow glow of light from the inside of the apartment. I probably just left a light on. Before I can unlock my door, someone clears their throat behind me. I turn around to see an elderly woman with what seems to be a bowl of milk in her hands.</p><p>“Mrs. Grimshaw, lovely to see you this evening.”</p><p>“Likewise, Natalie. I was just on my way to feed Francis’s cats, she’s away for the weekend.”</p><p>“She’s visiting her son at college, right?”</p><p>“Yes. Well, you have a pleasant evening, dear.”</p><p>“You too, Mrs. Grimshaw.”</p><p>Mrs. Grimshaw walks down the hall. Before she completely disappears, she turns around once again.</p><p>“Natalie dear, I believe you left the radio on. It’s been playing Tchaikovsky.”</p><p>“My mistake. Thank you, Mrs. Grimshaw.”</p><p>The elderly woman disappears around the corner. The radio? I don’t even use that thing much. I listen to music from my iPod. The radio is more for aesthetics. Something’s not right. I head down the stairwell and go to the back of the building. I climb up the fire escape. I get to my window and I see a man standing with his back towards me. I slowly and quietly slide open the window. I grab my glock form the backpack and clip on the safety. I climb through the window and quietly make my way over to the man.</p><p>The scent of the man seems familiar. I press the tip of the gun between his shoulder blades.</p><p>“Put your hands up slowly and turn around.”</p><p>“You’ve always had the ability to sneak up on me, Nat.”</p><p>The man turns with a sly grin on his face. I should’ve recognised him just because of the smell. Dammit, it wasn’t a fucking hallucination. I relax my stance, but I still point the gun at him.</p><p>“Captain.”</p><p>“You can set the gun down, Nat.”</p><p>“Not before you answer a few questions.”</p><p>“Sure. Anything.”</p><p>“Full Name. Date of Birth. Associations”</p><p>“Always to the point. God, I’ve really missed that.”</p><p>“Answer the questions.”</p><p>“Steven Grant Rogers. Born on the 4th of July 1918 in Brooklyn. I am an Avenger and a former associate of SHIELD.”</p><p>“What year are you from?”</p><p>“How would you know to even ask a question like that?”</p><p>“It’s been a long day, Captain. I’ve seen monsters, aliens and magic. And that’s just today. Plus, you got a good few years on our Captain. Your face is rigid and hard, like you been consumed by an extensive amount of stress. I am guessing that you’re nothing like the star-spangled man with a plan. Plus you hair is longer. So, I am gonna ask you again. What year are you from?”</p><p>“2023.”</p><p>“How do you know about this apartment; I haven’t told a single soul.”</p><p>“You told me about. I’ve actually lived in it. Well, we lived in it.”</p><p>“Last question. Why are you here in 2012?”</p><p>“I came back for you. I love you, Natasha.”</p><p>What did he just say? Stay calm, Natasha. I set down the gun on the table beside me. Bozhe moi. Before I know it, he grabs me by the waist and presses his lips on mine. His hands move from my waist up my curves towards my face. His left hand cradles the back of my neck while the other gets lost in my hair. It’s not as hot and heavy as our first kiss. It’s sensual. And it carries emotion. Empathy. Love. He lets up and pulls away. His proximity remains as he rest his forehead against mine.</p><p>“Natasha, I know what this might sound like. I am not expecting for you to just understand it, but give it time. Please.”</p><p>“Like I said before, Rogers. It’s been a long day. You can take the couch or the guest room, since you’ve been here before. I am heading to bed.”</p><p>Without further ado, I walk towards the bedroom. I hear a sigh behind me as I close the door.</p><hr/><p>“Good mornin’. You sleep okay? I know sometimes you have nightmares.”</p><p>“Yeah. Considering what happened yesterday.”</p><p>Wow. Where the hell did this level of comfortability come from ? It couldn’t have spawned from the kisses, right? I walk closer to where he stood in front of the stove – making breakfast. I finally take a seat at the breakfast bar. He passes me a cup of coffee. I stare into the cup before taking my first sip.</p><p>“Black, no sugar.”</p><p>“Thanks. How’d you know ?”</p><p>Steve runs his hands nervously through his thick blonde hair. “You told me. Well, not you-you – future you. You said…you said the Red Room saw milk and sugar as a luxury.”</p><p>“So she…uh I told you a lot of stuff about me?”</p><p>“Yes. We didn’t have a normal relationship. We were best friends for the longest time. And then after the biggest tragedy of our lives we took the leap of faith to become something more.”</p><p>I watch him closely as he talks about her – me. He’s got this twinkle in his eyes, that makes his irises seem impeccably blue. Good to know there’s a version of me that can actually evoke joy. A version of me. Not me.</p><p>“Why’d you come back here? To 2012. I’m sure there are many other timelines you could have gone to, assuming that is how your version of time travel even works.”</p><p>He turns his back towards me. I hear him shuffling objects and before I know it he sets down two plates of pancakes and syrup in front of me. He takes a seat next to me and proceeds to dig in to breakfast.</p><p>“Eat up. I know it’s your favourite.”</p><p>“Thanks.”</p><p>I cut a piece of the pancake stack, stab it with my fork and hesitantly bring it to my mouth. It’s delicious. Just like the time Laura made it for me, when I spent my first weekend at the farm.</p><p>“Just because this is really good. Doesn’t mean you get to avoid the question ? Why’d you come here, Steve?”</p><p>Steve places his fork next to his plate. He turns to face me and boldly reaches over to take my hands in his. Immediately I felt my heart flutter. This man – who I met a day and a half ago managed to culture emotions I didn’t even know I was capable of.</p><p>“Simply put. I came back to 2012, because I want the chance to fall in love with you all over again.”</p><p>He’s like a paperback romance novel. I don’t know if I am worthy of indulging in these feelings. Love is for children. Love is for children. Love is for children, isn’t it ?</p><p>“Steve. I can’t deny the feelings that have brewed…” </p><p>Before I could even finish my sentence, he reaches over to brush his thumb across the apple of my cheek.</p><p>“Then don’t.”</p><p>Why does he have to make it so damn hard ?</p><p>“I’m not her, Steve. I’m not your Natasha.”</p><p>“I know you are not.”</p><p>He leans in and pulls my face closer to his - and I let him. Our lips touch in a kiss that is reverent and reserved and yet conveys so much emotion. He opens his eyes as he retreats, a small smile graces his face.</p><p>“Do you feel that? The electricity that courses through your body when we touch. Because I do.”</p><p>I gently take his hands off my cheeks and place them in his lap. He clutches my hands. “Something tells there’s more to your story. What happened to your Natasha? Why aren’t you back home, being domestic with her?”</p><p>Then his demeanour changes. His eyes become sullen. He pulls away from me, stands up and heads towards the window. He blankly stares out of it as the silence brews.</p><p>“She died. She saved our world – our universe by sacrificing herself.”</p><p>“Still wiping out red in 2023.”</p><p>I run my hands through my hair and over my face. I breathe into my hands. Dammit. “That’s why I came back here. I need you. I need Natasha Romanoff.”</p><p>“So I’m a replacement.” As soon as the words left my mouth, Steve was by my side grabbing me in a tight hug.</p><p>“No…no, don’t you ever think that. You are my second chance.”</p><p>“Are you sure, Steve?”</p><p>“Yes. Allow me to prove it. Let’s get to know each other. As much as I wanted to just jump back into the swing of things, I knew that it couldn’t be possible. So let’s take it slow.”</p><p>“Slow…”</p><p>“Yes. Slow. We’ll just be there for each other and then when you’re ready, we'll see where it goes.”</p><p>I turn my body away from him and fold my arms around my torso in a tight self-embrace. I walk towards the window he stood in front of earlier. He follows me and blocks the view I was staring at. I look up at him with questioning eyes.</p><p>“Steve, I am damaged goods. Are you sure I am worth waiting for?”</p><p>He smiles at that. It wasn’t a sympathetic smile but a smile of understanding.</p><p>“You’re always worth waiting for. Every time.”</p><p>God, when did I become so emotive. I used to bury my feelings deep within me. But now, it seems as though when I am in his presence I erupt. I know enough about myself to know that this whole thing is not normal. But then again when has my life ever been just normal. Why is this so fucking hard? </p><p>“My feelings are a mess, Steve. I don’t know how to love.”</p><p>“Yes, you do. Lila, Cooper, Laura, Clint even Nick. You might not believe it now, but you have one of the biggest hearts, Natasha.”</p><p>“That doesn't mean I know how to be loved.”</p><p>“Then let me show you. Slowly.”</p><p>I look up at him and I see the sincerity in his blue eyes and kind smile. </p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>And then I see it. The same goofy smile on his face and twinkle in his eyes, I saw when he was talking about her. I evoked joy from him. I did that. I’d be lying if that wasn’t one of the best feelings in the world. He grabs me in a tight hug. After basking in the hug, I push away from him only to pat his chest.</p><p>“C’mon big guy, we gotta finish the delicious breakfast you made.”</p><hr/><p>
  <b>Steve’s POV </b>
</p><p>
  <b>Seven months later. </b>
</p><p>It’s been seven months since I came here. I’ve grown out my hair and my beard is coming along nicely. I decided it was for the best to adopt a guise and not run the risk of getting recognised. Natasha helped me set up bank accounts, DMV registrations, licences et cetera. According to the outside world I am Wayne Roscoe. But in our little bubble I’m just Steve.</p><p>Natasha and I are going steady. I’d say our relationship is healthy, we haven’t been moving too fast. Movies nights, casual dates and cheek kisses. We are doing this on her terms. </p><p>I have since moved into her apartment. There’s a familiarity and comfortability there. We’ve become somewhat domestic. By that I mean I mostly stay home – like a homemaker while Nat’s out working with the Avengers and SHIELD. We thought it’d be less conspicuous. But in all honesty I just wanted to be the something she comes home to after work.</p><p> I’m not needed here as a hero. No Captain America to jump into action, this world already has one of those. It’s quite a relief.</p><p>It’s not exactly the life I envisioned in the forties, hell it isn’t even the life I envisioned back in 2023, but I am happy. Very happy. And that is all because of Nat.</p><p> It’s five-thirty. Nat’ll probably be home in a few. I’m making my famous Spaghetti Aglio e Olio. I chop up the garlic as the music blasts from the speakers. This certainly is the best way to make dinner. Despite  my cooking haze, I hear the front door open and close. I hear footsteps grow louder and as I chop the parsley and then I feel arms snake around my waist. I turn my head to the side to see a beautiful red-head peering over my shoulder. </p><p>“Hey soldier, something smells good.”</p><p>“Making pasta.”</p><p>“The garlic and parsley one.”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“I’m gonna go wash up.” She kisses my cheek before she heads toward the bathroom.</p><p>“Don’t be too long dinner will be ready in ten” I shout over my shoulder.</p><p>While Natasha is in the bathroom, I continue with dinner and set the table. Set up some candles and mood music. I look around pleased with my work. Natasha enters the room wearing some worn in, ripped jeans and one of my white shirts.</p><p>“You know if I keep coming home to this, I might start expecting it regularly.”</p><p>“And if you keep wearing my clothes I might need to restock my closet.”</p><p>“Sue me. They’re comfy.”</p><p>I throw a knee-weakening smile at her. “You look really good in them too.”</p><p>I pull out a chair and gesture for her to sit. Of late, I've gotten in the habit of asking her how her day went. She was apprehensive at first, but she relaxed into it. Our dinner conversations have become a highlight of my day.</p><p>“So, how’s your day been?”</p><p>“Good, I guess.” She says through a mouth full of pasta. She proceeds to chew and swallow before elaborating. “Finding Loki has been our top priority.”</p><p>My ears perk at the name and my cheeks flush with heat. My stomach drops and suddenly I find myself with a loss of appetite, measly picking at my food. My thoughts are running wild as I hear Natasha going on about her day.</p><p>The infinity stones, the disappearance of Loki and the incidents around it, has not yet been information willing to share itself. It’s not that I haven’t told Natasha, it’s just that I prefer this time be different. And I want to make sure of that.</p><p>She knows there are things I haven’t told her, but instead of treading it out of me she gives me space and time so that I may come to her if I’m ready and willing. I’ve been ready and willing for sometime, but breaching the topic has become a feat in its own right. Well, until now.</p><p>“Steve...Steve...Steve.”</p><p>I suddenly realise Natasha’s been calling on me. I look up to meet her green eyes and find her face riddled with concern.</p><p>“Mhm.”</p><p>“Are you okay...you’ve barely touched your food. And you’re looking very pale.”</p><p>I try to brush off her concerns by persuading her back into conversation with a nervous smile on my face. I proceed in acting normally by twirling some of the pasta on fork. “You were saying?”</p><p>Natasha eyes me somewhat skeptically but continues the conversation. “Yeah...Thor’s been following leads that he picked up from chatter. Bruce and Tony are trying to track him by following any traces of gamma radiation produced by the tesseract. Nothing has come of it yet.” She gets up from the table and heads towards the refrigerator. She continues to talk even with her head in the fridge in search of juice. “For someone who likes attention, Loki sure is laying low. It’s like he just disappeared into thin air.”</p><p>The twig snaps and the resolve weakens, in a rush I stand up from my chair. The legs scrape against the hardwood floor. My body washes with relief as soon as I blurt out, “I let Loki escape.”</p><p>“You what...”</p><p>She turns around with the carton of juice in hand. The confusion on her face is in direct contrast to her actions as she walks over to the cabinet to retrieve a glass in which she languidly pours the juice.</p><p>“I let Loki escape...would you sit down so I can explain.” I gesture towards the her seat at the table.</p><p>Natasha takes a long sip of her juice. She gives in and walks back over to the table only to be stopped in her tracks by the beeping of her phone.</p><p>She walks over and answers without looking at the caller ID. “Romanoff.”</p><p>She runs her hand through her hair as she looks on at me. Despite the recent revelation, her composure remains cool.</p><p>“Yep. I’ll be right there.”</p><p>She ends the call and walks over to the coat rack. Without any further eye contact she takes her jacket from one of the hangers and proceeds to the door. She reaches for the doorknob and opens. Before leaving she turns back to me.</p><p>“Mission. I have to go.”</p><p>Before I can even respond, she is out the door. And I’m left with wondering how I could have done this better.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Twee</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Natasha’s POV</strong>
</p>
<p>“Tasha, wait up.”</p>
<p>I hear the familiar voice follow me as I make my way towards my office. I slow down when I enter the office. Clint follows soon behind, he closes the door as he walks in. That is usually indicative of him wanting to talk about something other than work.</p>
<p>“That sure was something, back there. Debriefs usually don’t get you so unnerved, are you gonna tell me what’s got you so antsy ?”</p>
<p>“Contrary to popular belief, Barton, I don’t need to tell you everything.”</p>
<p>Yes, I know that response was a bit much. I also know that he knows, I get snarky when I want the subject to be dropped or changed. But he’s not gonna let up. So, I have to think fast.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, personal life’s getting the better of me.”</p>
<p>“Personal life - what personal life.” he says jokingly. </p>
<p>I just give him a shrug of the shoulders. Luckily he seems to understand that we should just leave it at that. He walks over to take a seat on the couch as I head to my desk to take a seat. He sets his legs on the coffee table in front of him.</p>
<p>“Don’t you have your own office where you can put your feet up on a coffee table ?” I ask with a grin.</p>
<p>He bellows a laugh. And just to rub it in my face he kicks his boots together. I can practically see the dirt falling from his shoe to the table in slow motion. I’ll have to clean that up after he has gone.</p>
<p>“Tony says I not here enough, to get an office. He gave me a nook.”</p>
<p>“Mmm.”</p>
<p>Clint has yet to inform the rest of the team on his family. I don’t know if he will. He wants to keep them safe. He limits the knowledge of his family to only the people he can trust. Unfortunately, it comes with the job. So far the only SHIELD affiliates that know are Fury, Coulson and myself. Steve knows too but that neither here nor there. It might take a while before he tells the rest of the team. </p>
<p>“Speaking of. How are the kids ?”</p>
<p>“Good I guess, I haven’t seen them in little over a week. Right before I left, Lila lost her first tooth.”</p>
<p>“Did you play tooth-fairy or did you make Laura do it ?”</p>
<p>“I did.”</p>
<p>I walk over to the couch and climb over his legs. As I pass him, I pat his feet. He gives me a frown before reluctantly removing his feet.</p>
<p>“I’ve had missions in Kathmandu, Dubai, Addis Ababa, Belgrade – ”</p>
<p>“Budapest” We both say with a snicker.</p>
<p>“ – but getting a dollar underneath that little girl’s pillow, without waking her, must’ve been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”</p>
<p>I burst out laughing. The scenario was funny in its own right. But Clint going about it as an op, well that’s just a whole ‘nother level. He is not at all amused by me finding this so stomach-clenching funny. So, he continues the conversation.</p>
<p>“They miss you, you know.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I know. It’s been a few months. And I miss them too.”</p>
<p>“I’m going home, later today. Why don’t you come along ?”</p>
<p>“I dunno if I can.” I answer as I stare up at the ceiling, avoiding eye contact.</p>
<p>“Tasha, you clearly need an escape from whatever you running from. ”</p>
<p>I quirk a perfectly plucked eyebrow at him. Questioning him, needing him to elaborate.</p>
<p>“Sometimes you forget I know you better than most. Something’s obviously been bothering you. You been fidgety and agitated since we got called in.”</p>
<p>“You been watching me like a hawk, Barton.”</p>
<p>Clint smiles at the comment and turns to look at me. His blue eyes convey sincerity and honesty. </p>
<p>“No, I just know you.” He sighs. “And you need this.” </p>
<p>I run my hands through my hair. “Okay.”</p>
<p>“Yeah.” He looks at me like a puppy who just got a new toy.</p>
<p>I get up from the couch and straighten my clothes as I walk back towards my desk to retrieve my phone. </p>
<p>“We could leave now if you wanted to, I don’t need anything from my apartment.”</p>
<p>“Are you sure ? What about clothes or toiletries, lady stuff ?” He asks confused.</p>
<p>I chuckle and make my way towards the door. “Relax, Barton. It’s just for the weekend. And I’m sure Laura has extra.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <strong>BARTON FARM</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>MISSOURI</strong>
</p>
<p>I feel the cool Missouri air ghost against my skin. Goosebumps arise and I run my warm fingertips over them to chase them away. It’s peaceful here. It’s like the world turns slower or something. This place, it’s uncompromising. It makes you forget about anything and everything, until it doesn’t. </p>
<p>“You know, you could stay longer.”</p>
<p>I turn to find Laura smiling at me. She walks closer and hands me a cosy shawl. We move to the rocking chairs set on the porch.</p>
<p>“Really wish I could. But I’ve got things waiting for me in the city.”</p>
<p>Laura smirks and looks down as she plays with her fingers.</p>
<p>“I’ve noticed.”</p>
<p>I relax into the rocking chair. My expression remains unwavered as I continue to stare out at the scenery displayed in front of me.</p>
<p>“I’m sure you have” I reply dryly.</p>
<p>“Don’t be coy with me, Nat.”</p>
<p>Laura scoots closer to me and places her hand on my knee.</p>
<p>“Natasha, your body might’ve been here but your heart and mind weren’t.”</p>
<p>“Laura…”</p>
<p>Laura sits back in her chair, her eyes staring at me with great intent. </p>
<p>“Don’t even try to deny it. You can put on that façade with Clint and the kids, but don’t even try with me. You know I’ll see right through it.” </p>
<p>I look up into Laura’s big brown inviting eyes. I was just about to protest but submitted, instead opting to share with Laura.</p>
<p>“You know, I never cared for honesty or the truth for that matter.” I wring my hands so hard my knuckles start to turn white. “But I met someone who did, and I guess I was a little naive to believe I would always get that from him.”</p>
<p>Laura looks at me  a soft expression apparent in her face.</p>
<p>“You hurt because of what he told you or because he just didn’t tell you?”</p>
<p>“The latter I guess.” I sigh reluctantly as I lift my knees to hug them against my chest.</p>
<p>“Nat, do you love this ‘him’ ?”</p>
<p>I tuck my head between my knees answering in a muffled voice.“I don’t know.”</p>
<p>“Natasha, honey look at me.” Laura runs her hands through my hair to encourage me to lift my head. “It sounds to me like you do.”</p>
<p>I try to form a rebuttal, but I just can’t. Because deep down I know she may be right.</p>
<p>“You wouldn’t have been agonizing over this, the entire weekend. Nat, you wouldn't have been so hurt by what he did if you didn’t love him.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>“Do you really have to go so soon ?”</p>
<p>I look down to see a little brown-haired girl gripping at my pant leg, I crouch down to her level, and brush away the stray hairs from her face.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry Lila, but I have to go to work in the morning.”</p>
<p>Lila pushes her lips out in a pout. Her eyes are getting glassy. It is shaping up to look like her oh-so-familiar puppy dog face. She stares at the ground and proceeds to kick dust around. Clint steps closer to the two of us.</p>
<p>“Now, Lila Barton, you know very well that, that face, does not work on your Auntie Nat.” I send a glare Clint’s way.</p>
<p>“Like hell it doesn’t.” I look back towards Lila and take her small face in my hands. I bring her face up to look at me.</p>
<p>“Honey, I’ll be back before you know it.”</p>
<p>“You won’t stay away for long like last time” </p>
<p>“No, are you kidding. I’d miss you too much.”</p>
<p>A reluctant smile graces her cute little face .</p>
<p>“Now give your auntie Nat a big hug.”</p>
<p>Lila grabs me in a tight vice. One that catches me by surprise even though I asked for it. Laura steps closer to caress her back.</p>
<p>“Lila, let up on your auntie Nat. She needs to breath.”</p>
<p>Lila finally lets go and I continue on my rounds, greeting Clint, Laura and Cooper. After a teary goodbye – mostly from Lila, seems like my affirmations from earlier didn’t help much – I make my way to the barn where the jet in located.</p>
<p>I situate myself in the pilot seat. I calibrate the thrusters and relax into the seat. The roof opens up and I slowly manoeuvre the quinjet upwards and out of the barn. I see Lila and Cooper waving up at me. And within a blink of an eye the quinjet and I are gone.</p>
<p>Once I reach a cruisable altitude, I set the quinjet to autopilot. I pull out my cell phone, recline in my seat and set my feet up on the dash. I unlock my cell phone to see a voicemail  from Steve, I set the phone on loud speaker and listen back to it.</p>
<p>
  <em>Natasha, I don’t know if you’re gonna be able to hear this, I know outside communication is limited on missions. Anyway, we really need to talk when you get back. Please let me explain. Nat...just...I need to know you’ll come back to me.</em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <strong>Steve’s POV </strong>
</p>
<p>I reach my arm over to the other side of the bed. It’s cold. Still cold, like it has been for the past five days. Sleeping next to Nat, quells my nightmares. But waking up without knowing where we currently in our relationship - that scares me more than any nightmare she could ever tame. I close my eyes and breathe in deeply before turning over to check my phone on the bedside table. No messages from Nat, zip, nada. I glance over to my clock and look at the time. It’s only 6:30 AM. Well, I might as well start the day. </p>
<p>I decide to go to the study. I spend most of my time here. It’s where I come to think and sketch, mostly sketch. Today it’s both. I grab my drawing pad and plop down onto the chair. Of late my favourite thing to draw has been Nat. Her curves, her smile, her eyes. I start with the long strokes of her hair. My pencil glides over the paper as if it’s drawing on its own. Muscle memory. Sketching usually calms me down, makes me feel good. But not today. </p>
<p>I throw the half drawn sketch on the desk and run my hands over my face in frustration. I need to clear my head. A walk, a walk would do me good. I grab my baseball cap and sunglasses on my way out of the apartment. </p>
<p>The walk wasn’t all that helpful, but I was grateful for the fresh air. As I tread back to the apartment I think about the situation at hand. On the surface it may seem simple to resolve, in a normal relationship it would’ve been but throw in a super soldier, a super-spy, time travel and things get considerably more difficult. More things, more complicated things fall into play that increase the factor of resolution by quite a bit.</p>
<p>Thanks to my enhanced hearing I pick up the distinct sound of fingers tapping rhythmically against the table, as I enter the apartment. I walk down the short passage to the kitchen where I stop dead in tracks when I find a red head staring back at me. Relief washes over me, <em>she’s home</em>. The relief is short lived as I take in her neutral unwavering facial expression.</p>
<p>“Nat.” I take a step closer to her.</p>
<p>My eyes travel up and down her body. Her red hair is tied up in a messy bun. Her shirt loosely fit against her curves. Her leggings are hugging at her waist, thighs and legs.</p>
<p>She gets up from the table and walks towards the liquor cabinet and grabs a bottle of Beluga. As she heads back to the table she grabs two glasses. She takes the glasses to the freezer where she fills both with ice. Both of the glasses are filled to the rim. She languidly pours the vodka over the ice.</p>
<p>She sits back down and taps her fingers against the flat surface of the table. She takes one glass in hand and downs the content in one go, all while keeping her eyes focused on me. She slides the other glass in my direction and refills hers.</p>
<p>“Sit. Drink. Talk.”</p>
<p>“You know alcohol doesn’t work on me.”</p>
<p>I give her a toothy grin, trying to lighten the mood. As far as I know my smile has never diffuses a situation, but it does make the tension less strenuous. She looks away for a second before returning a smirk.</p>
<p>“Humour me.”</p>
<p>Following her lead, I down the contents. The cool liquid glides along my throat in contrast to the burn that evenly spreads. I push my glass back towards her. She refills it. Again I drink the content in one go. I stare at my glass. Okay, Steve. Time to fess up. I transfer my melted ice to her glass and put my glass back on the table, upside down.</p>
<p>“Didn’t peg you for a liar, Steve.”</p>
<p>“I never lied, Nat. I just never told you.”</p>
<p>Natasha sat back in her with her arms crossed over her torso. The crease in her forehead slowly disappears as she lets out a heavy breath. She remains stoic. “I think it’s time you tell me what happened to you back in the future.”</p>
<p>I proceed to tell Natasha about everything. Thanos, the Snap, the Blip, the Infinity Stones, the battle, Tony’s death and her death. It seems incredulous, that everything that happened, happened. Even now when I think back.</p>
<p>“So I returned the Infinity Stones to their various point in time.”</p>
<p>Natasha’s mask falters. She looks down at her crossed arms. “And Loki?”</p>
<p>“His escape was a timeline/time travel contingency.”</p>
<p>I grab her left hand as she places her hands back on the table. She looks up at me, then her hand and then back at me again. I caress the back of her hand with my thumb.</p>
<p>“I had to…I had to.”</p>
<p>“Steve.” Her call, prompts me to look up at her. She cups the side of my face, caressing my cheek. My nerves start to calm enough to continue.</p>
<p>“I had to let him go, because if I hadn’t, this timeline would end up like the one I’m from. You would’ve died in this one too.” I pause, gathering my emotions. “Natasha, I love you too much to lose you.”</p>
<p>“Steve…” She pulls my head forward and crashes her lips onto mine. The kiss is soft and reverent. Time slows down as we bask in each other until she pulls away. “I love you too.” She pecks my lips once more.</p>
<p>I cup Natasha cheeks and look into her eyes with great intent. “I did what I had to keep you in my life, and I’ll do it again if I have to. I don’t want our future together to end up exactly like that one.” </p>
<p> Her face drops. “What makes you so sure it won’t ?”</p>
<p>“Letting Loki go –  that’s what gives us the liberty to make sure that things are different this time around.” I sigh. “I know what’s gonna happen, I’ve lived through everything that were defining moments for us, our friends and our family. The moments that destroyed and wrecked us, that caused irrefutable pain and damage. Now I get to change that…we get to change that.”</p>
<p>I reach to hold her hands and give them a squeeze. “The future is gonna be different, this time.”</p>
<p>Natasha gets up, to stand in front of me. “I know it is, Steve. Because I trust you.”</p>
<p>She bends down to place a slow and heated kiss against my lips. She later pulls away, so that we may catch our breaths.</p>
<p>Gosh, I was completely gone for this woman. She is everything. </p>
<p>I pull her down for another kiss and move her to stand between my legs. She takes the other route and straddles my lap during the kiss. I press my body into hers as I run my hands up down her tighs. Natasha lets out a low breath. Her fingers comb through my tresses. The air is getting thick and hot. Our body temperatures are rising and our breathing has become laboured.</p>
<p>I move my hands and rest them on her waist, to pull her even closer to me. My lips find the junction between her neck and shoulders. I suck and nibble at the sweet taste of her skin. She leans into me even more and grabs my shorter hair even tighter. Itching just to touch more of her. To feel more of her, I lift up her shirt to caress her soft skin. I move my lips over her shoulder as I kiss every inch of her. I whisper between kisses.</p>
<p>“Thank you for trusting me, Nat.”</p>
<p>Too entwined in the happenings of the past few minutes all I receive from her is a low growl-like moan. She rolls her hips against mine as she proceeds to unbutton my shirt, placing hot kisses on the planes of my chest while she gets rid of my shirt. Her hands slowly move down towards my pants, where her nimble fingers undo my belt. Before she can continue I set my hands on hers as a motion to stop. I look up into those beautiful emerald eyes.</p>
<p>“Are you sure ?”</p>
<p>Natasha look back at me with loving eyes and a warm smile. “I want this, Steve. I want you.”</p>
<p>I release her hands from my own. I slowly reach up to claim her lips. It’s a passionate kiss. Our tongues fight for dominance as we rid each other from the rest of our clothes. I get up from the chair and she wraps her legs around my waist. Clothes strewn all over the place and the air filled with lust and love, I navigate us towards the bedroom.</p>
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